


Earth Angel

by onthedrift (on_the_drift), onthedriftinthetardis (on_the_drift)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Champagne, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Songfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 08:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19720177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/on_the_drift/pseuds/onthedrift, https://archiveofourown.org/users/on_the_drift/pseuds/onthedriftinthetardis
Summary: The End of the World has been averted, Heaven and Hell's revenge has been thwarted, and Aziraphale and Crowley enjoy a well-earned respite as feelings between them escalate.





	Earth Angel

**Author's Note:**

> I've been enjoying all of the Good Omens fanworks so much, I had to contribute this bit of fluff to the mix.  
> Thanks to chiaroscuroverse for the quick beta!

Lunch has segued into teatime, and the unlikely pair are lingering at the Ritz. Crowley is listening to Aziraphale just talking: like he does, about the averted apocalypse, and the Nice and Accurate Prophecies, and his precious books, and how he's so glad they're back, and safe. He is listening to him so distractedly, he almost misses what the angel says next. 

"And I'm so glad that you're back, and safe," he says earnestly. 

Crowley smiles at him, the smile that has always and ever been for Aziraphale. 

"Likewise, Angel."

Crowley's hand brushes Aziraphale's, accidentally on purpose, as the demon reaches for their second bottle of champagne. Aziraphale takes Crowley’s hand, entwining their fingers, and sets their joined hands on the table between them, holding on through the finger sandwiches and scones, not letting go even when the waiter comes to deliver the  eclairs . Crowley doesn't dare to hope. He hardly dares to breathe. 

The pianist stops playing, and after taking a bow and her applause (for which Aziraphale finally releases Crowley’s hand), she takes her leave. 

Aziraphale starts talking again, this time about a fantastic book he’d read last week, before all this began, and he closes his eyes as he describes an especially vivid passage. 

Crowley takes a deep breath, stands, and steps to Aziraphale’s side. The house band in the next room starts to play, and Crowley extends a hand towards the angel. 

Aziraphale looks up to find the demon regarding him with rare, soft intensity. 

The lead singer, who is dressed more like a hipster than someone who belongs in the house band for the Ritz, begins to croon. 

_ Earth angel, earth angel _ __   
_ Will you be mine? _ __   
_ My darling dear _ __   
_ Love you all the time _ __   
_ I'm just a fool _ _   
_ __ A fool in love with you

Aziraphale looks as stunned as he did on that night in 1941 when Crowley had handed him the satchel of his books saved from the blast by Crowley's "little demonic miracle." 

“Angel?” Crowley says, full of hope and fear. They’ve never danced before – not like this, out in the open, when Crowley was so overwhelmed with Feelings. Not when they were Free.

Aziraphale extends his hand to Crowley, who takes it and squeezes softly. 

"Dance with me?” Crowley murmurs. 

Aziraphale nods, unable for once to speak. 

Crowley helps him to his feet and leads him to the empty hardwood dance floor. He places his left hand carefully on Aziraphale's waist and steers him with their entwined hands into step with the music. 

Aziraphale smiles and places his left hand on Crowley's shoulder, stroking the fabric of his jacket with his thumb. His touch is gentle, yet firm enough that Crowley feels every stroke, and it makes him shudder like one of his lush but terrified plants. 

_ Earth angel, earth angel; _ __   
_ The one I adore _ __   
_ Love you forever and ever more _ __   
_ I'm just a fool _ _   
_ __ A fool in love with you

They begin to move together in a set of simple steps, swaying slightly as if in an invisible breeze, wings unfurled on another plane as if standing atop the wall where an angel and a demon first fell for each other. Crowley looks into Aziraphale's eyes and finds his gaze returned, Aziraphale seeing through his dark lenses as if they weren't even there. They hold each other's eyes as they dance, though the intensity is palpable, almost painful. 

_ I fell for you and I knew _ __   
_ The vision of your loveliness _ __   
_ I hope and I pray that someday _ __   
_ I'll be the vision of your happiness _ __   
_ Earth angel, earth angel _ __   
_ Please be mine _ __   
_ My darling dear _ __   
_ Love you all the time _ __   
_ I'm just a fool _ _   
_ __ A fool in love with you

As the music stops, Time comes to a halt. They reach for each other, Aziraphale sliding his hand behind Crowley's neck to draw him down while Crowley cups Aziraphale's face in his hands, and rests their foreheads together. And they stay like that for a year or a second or a fortnight, neither of them is sure. 

Aziraphale leans back and touches Crowley's sunglasses, and Crowley removes them and slips them, folded, into the neck of his shirt. He searches Aziraphale's eyes for acceptance, for connection, and for something more. He finds it all, and can't suppress a shudder. 

"I love you," Aziraphale says, voice wavering. "I think… I think I'm in love with you." 

Crowley pulls him against his hips with one hand, using the other to tip his chin up as his mouth descends on the angel's, wildfire in his veins. He swallows Aziraphale's groan, only to find his own moans escaping him when the angel responds with abandon. The Earth seems to tilt on its axis, until finally Crowley pulls away, gasping for breath. Aziraphale's smile glows. 

"Oh, Angel…." the demon murmurs, "I have loved you from the first."

Aziraphale rewards the confession with another kiss, sweet and full of promises. "Shall we?" he says, and Crowley nods slowly. 

Time resumes, diners clink their utensils against their china, unaware of the scene that had just played out. The band plays on as they leave together hand in hand. And above the sounds of pedestrians and traffic, a nightingale's song rises, serenading the immortals whose ancient love story was only just beginning.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you've enjoyed this ficlet, find me on Tumblr @hellandholywater!


End file.
